


Anytime You Need A Friend

by dametokillfor



Series: The Declassified Romance of Agents Hart and Trevelyan [6]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dametokillfor/pseuds/dametokillfor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent question from Eggsy results in a crippling anxiety attack, and Harry realising the world hasn't actually ended just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anytime You Need A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I wanted to practice writing Eggsy before I jump into a longer fic with him, and then this big ol' angsty mess happened. Eggsy is very hard to write, so I apologise if he seems a little squiffy.
> 
> This takes place during the 24 hours Harry and Eggsy spend together, so a few years before 'For Your Eyes Only'. 
> 
> This fic does feature an extended description of an anxiety attack, inspired by my own experiences. Read at your own risk.

"What about you, Harry? You got a special someone?" Eggsy asks him, over their third martini, "Your very own Moneypenny? Vesper?"

(He's become loose and lax, and he's not afraid of speaking his mind while he's drunk. Harry's going to need to fix that one.)

Harry isn't really ready to discuss what happened yet, he's not ready to tell Eggsy about his dead fiancé, about the fact Harry is training Eggsy to replace the man he was planning to spend the rest of his life with. 

But then.

"James." Harry replies, looking into his glass. 

(James has taught him how to make a martini, they'd never really been Harry's drink, but James couldn't resist playing up to his namesake. He'll never forget how much they laughed as James taught him, throwing lemon peels at each other, bopping each other with stirrers and tasting from each others lips). 

"James?" Eggsy asks. He doesn't sound surprised, disgusted, ashamed, embarrassed or anything. He simply sounds curious, about the person rather than the sexuality. 

"James Trevelyan, my fiancé." Harry tells him. 

"Trevelyan? Like Goldeneye? Fuck, Harry, you landed Bond's boyfriend!"

Harry can't help but chuckle softly at that, "Yes, he'd remind me of that on a semi-regular basis."

"Sounds like my kind of bloke. You gonna introduce us?"

And Harry knows that he has to tell Eggsy the truth, has to tell him what happened, that he's not here anymore, that he'll never see him again, but the words won't come out. He just stares straight ahead, can feel his throat closing up, the tears pricking at the back of his eyes. His chest is tight and his face and hands are numb.

"Harry?"

And Eggsy sounds far away, and everything is blurring. Jesus, he's having a goddamn anxiety attack. He does not need this right now. 

He can feel the tears falling down his face, a sob bubbling up in his throat and he wants to scream. The glass slips from his hand and as it smashes, the dam breaks, a loud sob wracking his entire body. 

There are two hands on his knees and a voice in front of him, saying his name over and over, but he's lost in the pain. He's never going to see James again, never. He's never going to wake up next to him again. He's never going to feel his arms around him again. He's never going to hear about one of his ridiculous dreams. He's never going to hear him complain about Harry being a wine snob. He'll never see those sea green eyes. He'll never see James again and now, now it's killing him.

"James is dead." Harry chokes out, "God, he's dead."

He's vaguely aware of this being the first time he's cried, the first time he's truly let himself acknowledge that James is actually gone. It's been months, actual months and now the grief hits? 

Eggsy is apologising, holding his knees. He's trying to anchor Harry in the moment, and Harry really wants to be out of this moment, out of this whole thing. Eggsy moves closer, wraps his arms around Harry's shoulder.

Harry isn't even sobbing, he's almost screaming into Eggsy's neck. He's just letting Eggsy hold him while he lets out the most ugly noises. He's never felt pain like this in his entire life. He's been shot, stabbed, burned, sliced and torn open, and nothing has hurt like this. 

He feels like he's in a vaccuum, and everything good, everything bright and beautiful and good in his world has been sucked away from him. 

He doesn't know how long he's been falling apart, been sobbing, crying and screaming on Eggsy when he finally slows down, when he finally feels like he's coming back to himself.

His breathing is evening out, his throat is wrecked, his eyes are sore and he feels weak at a kitten. He's ready to fall to the floor. Eggsy pulls back from him, and disappears. He appears a moment later, hands him a glass of water. He rests a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You alright, Harry?"

Harry nods slowly, taking a long drink from the water. It's a lie. He's not okay, he'll never be okay again, but he's better than he was a few minutes ago. 

"Yes. Thank you, Eggsy." Harry says.

"You want to talk about it?" Eggsy asks, "Or something else, or just get really drunk?"

He shakes his head, "Drinking sounds wonderful."

"You want another martini? Think I've got this down." 

Harry shakes his head again, "No, just... scotch. He liked... he taught me how to make them."

Eggsy smiles, "You was taught how to make martinis by _James_?" 

"A spy named James." Harry clarifies, to amuse Eggsy further, "I'm aware of how it sounds."

"Pretty sweet is how it sounds." 

Eggsy gets to his feet, and heads to the bar, picks up the mostly full decanter of bourbon. He grabs two glasses and brings them back to where they've been sat.

"So, what was he like?" Eggsy asks, as he pours two glasses, "If you don't mind me askin'. I can shut up, we can talk about somethin' else if you want. I mean, after that..."

"No, it... might actually help." Harry takes the glass from him, "He was smart, witty, charming, a romantic. He always knew how to make me laugh, make me smile. You two were a lot alike."

"Smokin' hot then, yeah?" Eggsy wiggles his eyebrows, sinking back in the chair.

"See for yourself." Harry picks up the tablet sat on the desk, pulls up a picture of the pair of them. It's a photo Merlin took. James is in a dark blue suit, Harry in a charcoal grey suit. Harry is laughing at a ridiculous joke James had just made, and James is smiling fondly at him. It's Harry's favourite photo. 

He passes it over to Eggsy.

"Wow, Harry." Eggsy says, looking over the picture, "I don't swing that way, but he is well fit."

Harry smiles, "I got lucky."

"How long were you together?" Eggsy asks, handing the tablet back to him. 

"Nine years. We'd been friends for seventeen years though." Harry smiles.

"Took your time, didn't you?" Eggsy smirks, "I mean, there's takin' it slow, Harry, and there's eight years."

Harry laughs, "Well to begin with, he thought I was missing a few vital parts."

"Shit, never!"

Harry smiles, and tells Eggsy about how they met, how they fell in love and a thousand little stories in between. Eggsy hangs on his every word, laughs and smiles and encourages him to remember all the good things that happened to them. There are so many happy stories, he'd almost forgotten just how great their life had been together. 

It's 3AM by the time Eggsy and Harry are yawning. They've gone through what was left in the decanter and Harry's heart is feeling so much lighter than it has in the past months. 

\---x

When he's got Eggsy settled in the guest room, he heads to his own. The bed still looks too big, too empty, James' favourite old t-shirt is still laid out on his side. It hurts to look at, but the fact it hurts is better than the numbness he's felt for the last few months. 

He strips off his shirt, his trousers and lays out on the bed in his boxers and undershirt, running his hand over James shirt. 

"I miss you." He tells the shirt, "I'll always miss you, but it's starting to get easier."

He closes his eyes and he can almost feel James wrapping his arms around him, kissing his head, telling him that he's going to be okay. 

And for the first time he really starts to believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on [Tumblr](http://damnstevens.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
